


Of Fodder

by Cokoliv



Category: Library of Ruina (Video Game), Lobotomy Corporation (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Dangerous Workplaces, Gen, Graphic Description, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, My first big story :D, Near Death Experiences, Ominous Vending Machines, Robots, Sacrifice, Spoilers, Violence, Weapons, art included, more TBA - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cokoliv/pseuds/Cokoliv
Summary: Lobotomy Corporation, one of the many Wings of the world, is known for being one of the most enticing companies for many inexperienced and low-tier individuals hoping for an escape. While they may usually believe employment is impossible in one of the large corporations, a lucky few find themselves with an opportunity the majority lack; the chance to join their ranks.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

> “ _We seek to escape the dark cave of a despondent mind by either dulling oneself mentally or through imaginative acts. One form of escapism is daydreaming._ ”  
>  ― Kilroy J. Oldster, _Dead Toad Scrolls_
> 
> _\--_

From the fixers of the distant avenues observing the streets to those wandering the areas hardly in sight, the confines of the city were apparent in the condense overcast limiting what stars could be visible even in the later day, only even more amplified by what puddles remained on each street's paved surface. Streetlights twinkled onto damp surfaces and rolling brick buildings barely illuminated through glass panes. No lights shone out from these openings. instead, they were found welcoming these warm and dangerous pale rays. From eyes tucked away behind one of many murky lighted areas, one figure situated a stamped letter into a readable spot.

“ _Dear specially requested employee candidate,_

_You have been selected for your unique talents to be among the few new employees chosen for our exclusive employment program. As with every Corporation, we do not choose only from the backgrounds of candidates. Instead, we select by unique traits noticed within observation testing and specifications composed by our Record Team. Feel honoured to know that you have passed all of these distanced examinations with flying colours high enough to be requested and desired among us. Should you accept this invitation, we look forward to seeing you among our new recruits shortly._

  
_Report to us quickly,  
_ _**Lobotomy Corporation**_ ”

What expression held falling slowly but gradually to disbelief, the man ran a fingertip across each sentence again and again to assure himself what he was reading was true, rather than the fragmentation of hopes he expected to fall null.

Employment into one of the Wings. To most individuals in the Backstreets, this was an impossibility to find. Their requirements had nearly always outlined proper education, training, and provable standardized test scores- all of which being things that nobody had the money nor opportunity to obtain in the lower ranks. Even should this be real, which the letter's receiver had doubted from the moment he obtained it outside of the W Corp messaging center, it was overall more likely that the envelope was addressed to the wrong person. From the top of his head, he could list numerous individuals who likely earned this offering far more than he had.

_Elizabeth_ , who had family from the Nest in District 5.

_Semita_ , the man working from the Candlewick Office to provide guidance and escorts from one District to another.

_Kyung-Hu_ , the woman who recently moved nearby as to study the movements of the Sweepers throughout the area.

And yet, here sat sheen-layered paper within his thumbs.

Almost as though the mention of them summoned their movements forth, sliding of hooked metal scared each nerve within the hiding man's form. _**Sweepers**_. Horrifying conglomerations of near-flesh and metal welded together into what could only be described as a mistake against even the codes established post-war. While he had experienced close calls with them in the past, he had spent more time watching their actions than most others throughout Lisetta, the block he lived within. Now was not the time, however.

Packing came first. Even if this employment opportunity has been send to the wrong individual, there was no doubt in his mind that he should be the one to take advantage of what fate glided directly to his hands from her scarce and limited feathers. This had to be a sign. A small guidance towards what his future should be, an opportunity to work his way into one of the Nests for both himself and whomever he chooses! There's nothing to stop him from preparing himself, gathering his supplies from his Office and making sure to give a large and proper impression to those who had inadvertently invited him regardless of their previous intent. His hands shook with anticipation as something else abruptly caught his attention.

_Ring~ Ring~ Ring~_

"..Of course."

Its sound became almost deafening in the confines of his room.

**_Ring~ ... Ring~ ... Ring~_ **

Trembling fingertips lifted up the receiver from the grey-clad box hung upon his wall. "... Hello?"

" _Hello,_ " replied a calm, almost distorted male voice into the receiver. " _I'm sure you recently received your letter._ "


	2. Conibear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living in the backstreets, there is one warning to be remembered above all else. Never face the Sweepers alone.
> 
> \- -
> 
> Thank you for reading this far! I hope you're having a wonderful day. If you're not then please look in the mirror and breath. They say that if you look at something beautiful and let your nerves relax, your day will improve!

" _Hello,_ " replied a calm, almost distorted male voice into the receiver. " _I'm sure you recently received your letter._ "

“Yes, I received a letter today. Is.. the selection true, sir?”

Every nerve on the receiving listener’s body sparked in quick response, growing with each syllable heard. This was a call meant for him. The letter had been intentionally sent not to an accidental receiver, but it was for him and him alone. Doubt still hit his thoughts as quickly as the scythe wielded by the quickly moving abominations outside. Perhaps there was a chance that even the number within the records was mistaken. Even his boss occasionally rang up Archer instead of him..

Assurance came quickly in the form of the caller’s audibly practiced lines. “ _Yes, we are providing you the exclusive honor of an employment spot within our Company. However, I have a dire request for you._ ”

“What would that be?” Requests. That phrasing usually wasn't the most trustworthy way to express an offering of any kind, but it wasn't as though there were many options for those within the lower tiers. Sure he wasn't the lowest, that was exemplified by what resided as his next employment chance, however that oftentimes didn't lead to any more benefits in life than those who carve their way by the back walls restraining the war’s mistakes. Other than safety from only them, that is. But that wasn’t important at this very moment. He knew he was getting carried away in his head the moment that his ears hadn’t completely caught how his new employer was speaking to him. “ _...report immediately,_ ” the voice continued, “ _through the use of an externally transferred Warp train ticket provided in your name. You have a provided pass within the system whether you accept this request or not, though your employment is somewhat secured upon your response._ ” The employee’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes! Yes. I’ll collect my belongings as quickly as possible to hurry to the station.”

Without a pause, the overseer discarded his intentions. “ _There is no need. We have supplies for you here, along with every tool needed to perform your work. Your assistance is needed post-haste._ ” The communication’s signal seemed to dull its feedback momentarily. Perhaps the robotic individual had taken a step back? Matted heron-esque curls were pushed back idly by a disconcerted hand upon what was being practically demanded of him reaching an already clouded and exhausted brain. Turning this down could only mean losing his last opportunity for a way out of what was aligned for him as things were. “I’ll… hurry immediately, sir. Will my boss be told I’m shifting to a new district entirely?” The somewhat hazed eyes laced with mild modification glanced slowly towards and through nearby glass paneling to analyze what continued perusing the streets with intent. This must be a test. An insane test yes, but one nevertheless. Veins within his chest had already begun freezing up from what his expression lacked expressing. “ _Your employer has already been informed of the offering. Should you accept, there will be no tarnishing of your records. I would recommend hurrying._ ” “Sir-” But before he could finish a sentence, the line cut off. 

Here he had been in the hopeful mindset that they were going to provide proper communication about what would be required of him. A mindset tossed aside in a similar manner to all of his work before this point within the office he strove to maintain his position within. There was no use. All air remained in his chest, catching his attention sooner than the doorknob already turning by the palm of his hand to open up his bedroom door. What felt like a dream was slowly draining all rest he had. Even still, this could be an opportunity, a change being something his whole life had been pushing for over many, many years. Fingertips slowly dragged up the coat stolen from another, more experienced fixer, hanging in his closet. One chosen trophy from about a decade adrift through the city’s metaphorical gutter. He swung the light, smoke-patterned sleeves over his own smoothly and zipped it up without much thought. Open sides allowed him to move as freely as he needed, the protection each thread provided compensating what he lacked otherwise, alongside the markings helping to obscure his movement from misty evening dew rising among iron drips falling through numerous grounded clouds trapped alongside all travelers.

There remained no use hesitating, his plan of action decided for him by instructions imprinted in his brain by who could only be named as the harbinger of forced decisions. At least in his mind, that is. These thoughts kept his limbs from their hesitation in opening the second door at the end of his apartment, boots already fastened to his legs clicking against the doorway into the red-speckled light mist around him telling of wolves waiting for their hooded red meal to enter the forest of familiar cityscape.

W Corp’s station wasn’t far from his home.

Sweepers had limited vision. They were capable of telling corpses from trash, humans from corpses, and corpses from each other, but many of those who situated red goggles over their eyes and their clothes easily blending into the surrounding air could be disregarded for a duration of time. All the time he needed. All the time he hoped could be trusted. All the time that seemed to draw out breath by breath, the light sound of clicking falling into incomprehensible buzzing.

Their ‘ _speech_ ’ felt similar to the ears as the predatory noises of monsters.

All individual clacks resembled a mixture of a failed telephone signal mixed with pressed keys on an Office’s recording typewriter. They chittered similarly to a massive insect crawling beneath the draping clothes that covered whatever remained underneath. There were rumors each may have once been human, something he doubted if only for the meaningless and mindless manner their mockery of communication fell to be. Even the odd manner many began clicking in sync…

A warning? No. It-

Leathery fabric ground oddly against itself as clicking approached closer behind him. Their shapes, uncanny movements, were enough to make his blood run as cold as the fluid moving through their bodies instead of the flesh their existence parodied. The accumulating rain beneath his own boots mirrored each pacing footstep approaching behind, then aside. His limbs pulled an unwilling, fearful form swifter along. Newfound shadows kept close to their behaviors. The cyan illumination ahead was a newfound and necessary haven too far to quell any fears. Evening dimming of their signs did little to render straining and searching eyes from heading directly towards it at the same speed, though each second let the tracking eyes raise their awareness more and more in their desperation to sink mandibles shaped as held, curved blades into the bloodstream of any skin found. These blades were filled with visible toxins through the unusually translucent and sharpened metal lined by jagged, small hooks he had never seen until now, when one pulled through both sleeve and muscle as though it were nothing more than the murk surrounding them.

Hand reached tiled floor, legs hooking under a bent torso amongst quick and near excited breaths. Only a cut. Not even enough for the venom to sink in. Only a _**cut**_!

If this was anything like what this Corporation would require of him, life would be easy from here on out.

Surely it couldn't be worse.


End file.
